Proof of Existence
by Ube
Summary: He had nothing to remember her by. It was as if she never existed. -spoilers to end game-


_A/N: As ridiculously depressing as I wrote this out, I decided to write a dark side of how Midna's absence affected Link. It sure as hell depressed me._

_For some reason, I was able to get this out on the impulse that I just felt like writing something. End useless ramble._

_

* * *

_

It was either an incredibly vivid dream, or just a really bad nightmare.

Why a nightmare, you ask?

Evil had been vanquished. Hyrule had just been saved. He had not died, and no one of great importance had either.

But she was gone. And it had been as if she never existed.

Many times he had left his house and rode with Epona around the fields, took a stroll through towns, went back through dungeons. When he finally left, the ever patient horse had waited for him, grazing stray tufts of grass or quietly dozing off.

Unlike a certain someone.

Sometimes, he'd get that horrible, blasphemous thought, the one that made him shudder in horror and send cold, relentless shivers through his body.

That if...

Yes...

If Midna had died, he would have something to remember her by.

If they buried her small, lifeless body, if he _held_ it, he'd look at her grave and know that she really existed.

That if her body was there, he'd have something to hold onto.

He would have truly never thought of something like that if he had not been so desperate for her memory.

The first time the thought had crossed his mind, it had brought him a false, unreal sense of relief. As soon as it came, it was replaced by a shock of disgust and hate for even having thought of it. The thought had been useless and had only wrought up more dark feelings in his already depressed state of mind.

If her death had been the only thing for him to remember her by, if he could only find proof of her existence in her dead, rotting corpse, he would fall into a deep, dark hole of despair. It would be proof that she _used_ to live, and he had failed to protect, to save her.

He feared that if he became so distraught with disbelief, if he began to feel as if he needed even more closure of her existence, he'd dig up her body, whether all that was left of her was a decaying corpse or scattered bones and dulled patches of wiry, orange hair.

The thought alone was nearly enough to drive him over the edge.

Once or twice had he gone back to the Mirror Chamber. Not even a shard of mirror had been left. Only the cold, metal frame. If the mirror had ever existed, it had already been turned to dust. Could you fix a mirror that had been turned to a pile of dust? If you broke a mirror, you would toss it away and buy a new one.

Link had wanted to keep the pieces. But not even one shard had been left.

If it had ever existed...did it actually exist?

Did he really go on an adventure?

Finish a journey?

Fight evil?

Save humanity and all that existed?

Feel the pain and fatigue after a long battle?

Had he experienced the sensation of death as life left his body and felt it pumping with life as the shimmering light of a health fairy swiveled and showered him with warmth and vitality?

Did he ever meet new people, visit new places outside the only life he knew inside the village?

Had she really existed?

Not one trace of her had been left. No pictures, notes, memorabilia. Nothing to remind him of her and her fiery hair and pale skin. Only memories.

The worst part was that he was one of only two people who knew she existed, that her world, her people, existed.

How could he try to live his old life in the village when everyone knew nothing of her, of her faults, quirks, her guidance, her smile?

He couldn't look at his shadow without touching it, look at a mirror without breaking it.

Look at the shards without being tempted to crush them into his palms and feel their sharp edges run with blood.

As ridiculously melancholic it sounded, he was really depressed to the point where feeling anything but sadness was good. Truly, even pain was a better alternative. Anything to break the endless pattern of gloom and despair.

He felt as if he lost a part of himself. And in a way, she had been.

She had been his shadow.

If he was the only one left standing, she would be there. If he ever fell in a place so deeply isolated with no hopes of ever seeing animated life, she would lie beside him.

Even in the darkest dungeons, with the most terrifying creatures he did not think existed, she had been there. He may have seemed alone, but she was always there.

Or had she really been there? Did she really exist? Had he really fallen in love with her? It was hard to remember...


End file.
